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Will make my boldness manners.-Now, good, Is this the honour they do one another? 'Tis well, there's one above them yet. I had thought,
Fly o'er thy royal head, and shade thy person
K. Hen. Now, by thy looks
They had parted so much honesty among them, (At least, good manners,) as not thus to suffer
I guess thy message. Is the queen deliver'd? A man of his place, and so near our favour,
Say, ay; and of a boy.
Lady. Ay, ay, my liege;
And of a lovely boy: The God of heaven
K. Hen. Lovell,
K. Hen. Give her a hundred marks. I'll to
An ordinary groom is for such payment.
[Exeunt. SCENE II.-Lobby before the Council-Chamber. Enter CRANMER; SERVANTS, DOOR-KEEPER, &c. attending.
Cran. I hope, I am not too late; and yet the gentleman,
[me That was sent to me from the council, pray'd To make great haste. All fast? what means this?-Hoa!
Who waits there?-Sure, you know me?
But yet I cannot help you.
To dance attendance on their lordships' plea
To sit here at this present, and behold
D. Keep. Your grace must wait, till you be That chair stand empty: But we all are men,
Enter Doctor BUTTS.
Butts. This is a piece of malice. I am glad,
This is of purpose laid, by some that hate me, (God turn their hearts! I never sought their malice,)
To quench mine honour: they would shame to make me
Wait else at door; a fellow counsellor,
Must be fulfill'd, and I attend with patience.
Butts. I'll show your grace the strangest
K. Hen. What's that, Butts?
In our own natures frail; and capable
Of our flesh, few are angels: out of which
And want of wisdom, you, that best should
Have misdemean'd yourself, and not a little,
(For so we are inform'd,) with new opinions,
Gar. Which reformation must be sudden too,
Till they obey the manage. If we suffer
The upper Germany, can dearly witness,
K. Hen. Body o'me, where is it?
K. Hen. Ha! 'Tis he, indeed :
Cran. My good lords, hitherto, in all the
Both of my life and office, I have labour'd,
(I speak it with a single heart,* my lords.)
That, in this case of justice, my accusers,
Suf. Nay, my lord,
That cannot be; you are a counsellor,
And, by that virtue, no man dare accuse you. Gar. My lord, because we have business of more moment,
We will be short with you. 'Tis his highness'
And our consent, for better trial of you,
Suf. 'Tis the right ring, by heaven: I tola [ing, When we first put this dangerous stone a roll'Twould fall upon ourselves.
Nor. Do you think, my lords,
Chum. 'Tis now too certain: How much more is his life in value with him? 'Would I were fairly out on't.
Crom. My mind gave me,
In seeking tales, and informations,
Ye blew the fire that burns ye: Now have at ye.
Enter KING, frowning on them; takes his scut.
Gar. Dread sovereign, how much are we bound to heaven
In daily thanks, that gave us such a prince; Gar. My lord, my lord, you are a sectary, Not only good and wise, but most religious: That's the plain truth; your painted gloss dis-One that, in all obedience, makes the church [ness. The chief aim of his honour; and, to strengthen To men that understand you, words and weak- That holy duty, out of dear respect, Crom. My lord of Winchester, you are a lit- His royal self in judgement comes to hear The cause betwixt her and this great offender. K. Hen. You were ever good at sudden com
By your good favour, too sharp; men so noble,
Gar. Good master secretary,
I cry your honour mercy; you may, worst
Crom. Why, my lord?
Gar. Do not I know you for a favourer Of this new sect? ye are not sound. Crom. Not sound?
Gar. Not sound, I say.
Crom. 'Would you were half so honest! Men's prayers then would seek you, not their
Bishop of Winchester. But know, I come not
But, whatsoe'er thou tak'st me for, I am sure,
He, that dares most, but wag his finger at thee:
Sur. May it please your grace,—
K. Hen. No, Sir, it does not please me. I had thought, I had had men of some understanding
And wisdom, of my council; but I find none.
Bid ye so far forget yourselves? I gave ye
Chan. Thus far,
My most dread sovereign, may it like your grace [pos'd To let my tongue excuse all. What was purConcerning his imprisonment, was rather (If there be faith in men,) meant for his trial, And fair purgation to the world, than malice; I am sure, in me.
K. Hen. Well, well, my lords, respect him; Take bim, and use him well, he's worthy of it. I will say thus much for him, If a prince May be beholden to a subject, I Am, for his love and service, so to him. Make me no more ado, but all embrace him; Be friends, for shame, my lords. My lord of Canterbury,
I have a suit which you must not deny me; This is, a fair young maid that yet wants baptism,
You must be godfather, and answer for her. Cran. The greatest monarch now alive may glory
In such an honour; How may I deserve it, That am a poor and humble subject to you? K. Hen. Come, come, my lord, you'd spare your spoons; you shall have Two noble partners with you; the old duchess of Norfolk, [you? And lady marquis Dorset; Will these please Once more, my lord of Winchester, I charge Embrace, and love this man. [you,
Gar. With a true heart, And brother-love, I do it. Cran. And let heaven
Witness, how dear I hold this confirmation.
The common voice, I see, is verified [bury
SCENE 111.-The Palace Yard. Noise and tumult within. Enter PORTER and his MAN.
Port. You'll leave your noise anon, ye rascals: Do you take the court for Paris-garden?t ye rude slaves, leave your gaping.t
[Within.] Good master porter, I belong to the larder.
Port. Belong to the gallows, and be hanged, 'you rogue: Is this a place to roar in?-Fetch me a dozen crab-tree staves, and strong ones; these are but switches to them.-I'll scratch your heads: You must be seeing christenings? Do you look for ale and cakes here, you rude rascals?
Man. Pray, Sir, be patient; 'tis as much impossible [cannons,) (Unless we sweep them from the door with To scatter them, as 'tis to make them sleep On May-day morning; which will never be: We may as well push against Paul's, as stir them.
Port. How got they in, and be hang'd? Man. Alas, I know not; How gets the tide As much as one sound cudgel of four foot [in? You see the poor remainder) could distribute, made no spare, Sir.
It was an ancient custom for sponsors to present spoons to their god-children. + The bear garden on the Bank-side. 1 Roaring.
Port. You did nothing, Sir. Man. I am not Samson, nor Sir Guy, nor Colbrand,* to mow them down before me: bat, If I spared any, that had a head to hit, either young or old, he or she, cuckold or cuckoldmaker, let me never hope to see a chine again; and that I would not for a cow, God save her.. [Within.] Do you hear, master Porter? Port. I shall be with you presently, good master puppy.-Keep the door close, Sirrah. Man. What would you have me do?
Port. What should you do, but knock them down by the dozens? Is this Moorfields to muster in? or have we some strange Indian with the great tool come to court, the women so besiege us? Bless me, what a fry of fornication is at door! On my Christian conscience, this one christening will beget a thousand; here will be father, godfather, and all together.
Man. The spoons will be the bigger, Sir. There is a fellow somewhat near the door, he should be a brazier by his face, for, o' my conscience, twenty of the dog-days now reign in's nose; all that stand about him are under the line, they need no other penance: That firedrake did I hit three times on the head, and three times was his nose discharged against me; he stands there, like a mortar-piece, to blow us. There was a haberdasher's wife of small wit near him, that railed upon me till her pink'd porringert fell off her head, for kindling such a combustion in the state. I miss'd the meteort once, and hit that woman, who cried out, clubs! when I might see from far some forty truncheoneers draw to her succour, which were the hope of the Strand, where she was quartered. They fell on; I made good my place; at length they came to the broomstaff with me, I defied them still; when suddenly a file of boys behind them, loose shot, delivered such a shower of pebbles, that I was fain to draw mine honour in, and let them wia the work: The devil was amongst them, I think, surely.
Port. These are the youths that thunder at a play-house, and fight for bitten apples; that no audience, but the Tribulation of Tower-hill, or the limbs of Limehouse, their dear brothers, are able to endure. I have some of them in dance these three days; besides the running Limbo Patrum, and there they are like to banquet of two beadles, that is to come.
Enter the Lord CHAMBERLAIN.
Cham. Mercy o'me, what a multitude are here! [coming, They grow still too, from all parts they are As if we kept a fair here! Where are these porters,
These lazy knaves?-Ye have made a fine hand, fellows.
There's a trim rabble let in: Are all these
Port. An't please your honour
Cham. As I live,
If the king blame me for't, I'll lay ye all
* Guy of Warwick, nor Colbrand the Danish glant.
Place of confinement.
Clap round fines, for neglect: You are lazy | And hang their heads with sorrow: Good
And here ye lie baiting of bumbards, when Ye should do service. Hark, the trumpets sound;
They are come already from the christening:
Port. Make way there for the princess. Man. You great fellow, stand close up, or I'll make your head ache.
Port. You i'the camblet, get up o'the rail; I'll pick you o'er the pales else. [Exeunt.
SCENE IV.-The Palace.t Enter Trumpets, sounding; then two Aldermen, Lord MAYOR, GARTER, CRANMER, Duke of NORFOLK, with his Marshal's Stuff, Duke of SUFFOLK, two Noblemen bearing great standing-bowls for the christening gifts; then four Noblemen bearing a canopy, under which the Duchess of NORFOLK, godmother, bearing the child richly habited in a mantle, &c. Train borne by a Lady; then follows the Marchioness of DORSET, the other godmother, and Ladies. The Troop pass once about the stage, and GARTER speaks.
Gart. Heaven from thy endless goodness, send prosperous life, long, and ever happy, to the high and mighty princess of England, Elizabeth!
Flourish. Enter KING, and Train. Cran. [Kneeling.] And to your royal grace, and the good queen,
My noble partners, and myself, thus pray:All comfort, joy, in this most gracious lady, Heaven ever laid up to make parents happy, May hourly fall upon ye!
K. Hen. Thank you, good lord archbishop; What is her name?
(But few now living can behold that goodness,) A pattern to all princes living with her, And all that shall succeed: Sheba was never More covetous of wisdom, and fair virtue, Than this pure soul shall be: all princely graces,
That mould up such a mighty piece as this is, With all the virtues that attend the good, [her, Shall still be doubled on her: truth shall nurse Holy and heavenly thoughts still counsel her: She shall be lov'd and fear'd: Her own shall bless her:
Her foes shake like a field of beaten corn, Black leather vessels to hold beer. + Pitch. • At Greenwich.
grows with her:
In her days, every man shall eat in safety Under his own vine, what he plants; and sing The merry songs of peace to all his neighbours: God shall be truly known; and those about her From her shall read the perfect ways of hon[blood.
And by those claim their greatness, not by [Nor shall this peace sleep with her: But as when
The bird of wonder dies, the maiden phoenix, Her ashes new create another heir. As great in admiration as herself; So shall she leave her blessedness to one, (When heaven shall call her from this cloud of darkness,)
Who, from the sacred ashes of her honour, Shall star-like rise, as great in fame as she was, And so stand fix'd: Peace, plenty, love, truth, terror,
That were the servants to this chosen infant,
And, like a mountain cedar, reach his branches
K. Hen. Thou speakest wonders.]
Cran. She shall be, to the happiness of Eng
An aged princess; many days shall see her, And yet no day without a deed to crown it. 'Would I had known no more! but she must [gin,
She must, the saints must have her; yet a vir-
Thou hast made me now a man; never, before
Ye must all see the queen, and she must thank She will be sick else. This day, no man think He has business at his house; for all shall stay, This little one shall make it holiday. [Exeunt.
"Tis ten to one, this play can never please All that are here: Some come to take their
And sleep an act or two; but those, we fear,
IN Troy, there lies the scene. From isles of
The princes orgulous,* their high blood chaf'd,
To Tenedos they come;
And the deep-drawing barks do there disgorge Their warlike fraughtage: Now on Dardan plains
The fresh and yet unbruised Greeks do pitch
Now expectation, tickling skittish spirits,
'Ginning in the middle; starting thence away To what may be digested in a play.
Like, or find fault; do as your pleasures are; Now good, or bad, 'tis but the chance of war. + Freight. 4 Avaunt, what went before.
* Proud, disdainful.
SCENE I.-Troy.—Before PRIAM's Palace. Enter TROILUS arm'd, and PANDARUS. Tro. Call here my varlet,* I'll unarm again: Why should I war without the walls of Troy, That find such cruel battle here within? Each Trojan, that is master of his heart, Let him to field; Troilus, alas! hath none. Pan. Will this geert ne'er be mended? Tro. The Greeks are strong, and skilful to their strength,
Fierce to their skill, and to their fierceness valiant;
But I am weaker than a woman's tear,
Pan. Well, I have told you enough of this: for my part, I'll not meddle nor make no further. He, that will have a cake out of the wheat, must tarry the grinding.
Tro. Have I not tarried?
Pan. Ay, the grinding; but you must tarry the bolting.
Tro. Have I not tarried?
Pan. Ay, the bolting; but you must tarry the leavening.
Tro. Still have I tarried.
Pan. Ay, to the leavening: but here's yet in the word--hereafter, the kneading, the making of the cake, the heating of the oven, and the baking; nay, you must stay the cooling too, or you may chance to burn your lips. Tro. Patience herself, what goddess e'er
Doth lesser blench§ at sufferance than I do. ↑ Weaker.
A servant to a knight.